Legacy of War
by Temporal Knight
Summary: Not all scars are physical. Harry knows that particular truth very well and has long since stopped trying to piece together the shattered remnants of his life after the war. When Astoria Greengrass tips the balance of his house of cards Harry is forced to choose between continuing his spiral or...to start trying to heal. Mild AU, EWE.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. If I did I would be a far richer man. And I'd be a woman. I also don't own Barney...thank god.

 **AN:** So this is a short oneshot that I was inspired to write after reading "Things You Cannot Leave Behind" by YakAge. It's centered on a massively depressed Harry after war and his struggles to find some semblance of peace in his life. That story tore at my heartstrings and as a fan of happy endings I felt the need to imagine one for YakAge's original couple. That quickly evolved into its own beast which turned into this oneshot. I may eventually expand this but for the moment there is no plan to do so. Thanks to my beta, RhysThornbery.

I wanted to try and have this completed for Memorial Day, but didn't quite make it. As this story deals a bit with a former soldier dealing with his issues (badly) I felt it was appropriate. It may be a day late, but please remember those who have sacrificed and served.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think in a review!

* * *

 **Legacy of War**

"Tonks residence, this is Tonks speaking," the harried female voice sounded from the speaker pressed against Martin's ear.

"Mama Barney!" a toddler yelled in the background a distant smacking sounding, probably from a toy being slammed into the ground. Martin couldn't help the small smile, his own little one was long since grown, but that sound certainly brought back memories.

"Teddy, I've seen that one. Mama's on the phone!"

"Barney now!" the little voice insisted.

"Barney's already on and I'll be in in a minute!" A short paused later, which Martin knew was occupied by the woman rubbing her head and trying not to smash it against the nearest hard surface, the voice issued forth again noticeably perkier. "Sorry about that. How can I help you?"

"It's fine, Ma'am," Martin replied. "I'm the bartender at O'Malley's Cove and I have a gentleman here who said that you were his emergency contact. At least I hope you are. It took me almost twenty minutes just to get your number out of him."

"Goddammit not again…" the woman murmured, the cheer receding from her voice and a sigh issuing forth instead. "O'Malley's? Is that the one on 5th?"

Martin shook his head as he glanced over at the man nursing his third Long Island. At least help was on the way. Hopefully the guy stayed conscious long enough for his friend to arrive. "No, Ma'am, we're on Brookdale Street. It's a – "

"Yeah I know where it is," Tonks said cutting him off. "Is he passed out yet?"

"Not yet, but if he's still awake after that last drink I'll eat my hat. I only gave it to him because it was the quickest way to get your number out of him. Owner frowns on us calling ambulances and all that."

A muffled curse sounded through the speaker swiftly followed by giggling from the toddler. "Mama bad word!"

"Teddy, I swear if you tell Grandmama that I cursed in front of you, there will be no ice cream for a month." A comical gasp almost had Martin forgetting about his now mumbling customer. "Sir? Can you make sure to keep him there? I'll be there in five minutes."

Martin's eyebrows rose at that. "You must live close."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Look, just keep him there. I'll be right over. Teddy, let's go find Grandmama, Mama's gotta run an errand."

The line went dead and Martin turned back to the scruffy-looking man currently attempting to either drown himself or develop severe alcohol poisoning. Martin had only just finished hanging up the phone when the man knocked back the last of the drink and slammed it onto the counter perking his head up and staring at Martin. "Anot-anoter-aner-Another!"

"Sorry, Sir, you are cut off. I don't know how much you had before wandering in here, but it was clearly too much."

"Take ma mney 'n gib me tha' drink. Pwease."

Martin shut his eyes and counted to ten. Refocusing on the man he had to resist the urge to curse or raise his voice. Neither reaction ever worked with the drunks. You had to _work_ to get that bad. There were old stains on the man's trenchcoat, wrinkles in his shirt, his hair was fully matted on one side and wild on the other, his one hand kept tapping out a repeating rhythm on the countertop…To top it all off, Martin figured the man had to have sat in something especially sticky in order to remain seated on that chair rather than toppling off with how much he was rocking and wobbling.

"Sir, this may sound odd coming from a bartender, but alcohol doesn't make it go away."

The man shook his head and leaned down onto the countertop clutching the empty bottle in a deathgrip. "Bett'r 'en drugs or p-potions."

Martin was saved from replying by the establishment's door swinging open and a woman walking in. She had a 'World's Best Mom' shirt on that seemed to thoroughly clash with her short, spiky, blue hair. The woman glanced around the nearly empty bar once before making a beeline to his problem patron. "Harry…Bloody hell, Harry. This is the second time this week."

"New week," the newly identified 'Harry' muttered into the wood. " 's Sunday. New week."

"Actually it's Saturday, Harry. Come on, get up," she said grimacing and bending down to throw his arm around her shoulders while her other hand hesitated over his arse for a moment before settling on his back and heaving him up into a semi-standing position. "Sorry about the trouble, thanks for calling." She threw two tenners onto the bar and started slowly walking her charge out of the pub.

"It's Sater-Saturday? Damn…S'rry, Dora. Trying to keep my promise."

The woman patted his back and smiled at him as she elbowed the door open. "It's okay, Harry. What are friends for right?"

Their conversation drifted off and Martin shook his head turning back to finish cleaning his bar and taking care of his other few customers. Whatever was haunting that kid Martin could only hope he found a healthier way of dealing with it.

* * *

Harry collapsed onto the couch with a groan and covered his eyes with his arm. He heard Dora walk through Grimmauld's hallway and rustle around in the kitchen for a few minutes. Each bang of pot, kettle, cauldron, etc. slamming into his skull like a train. It wasn't fair that he was already hungover when he wasn't even finished being drunk yet. Getting older sucked. Or maybe it was just his liver was finally dying. Or his magic was trying to fix him like it used to. Probably the last one really. Plenty of people lasted decades drinking far more than _he_ ever did and it hadn't even really been two years yet for the Potter Decline.

He giggled thinking about that term. Maybe he'd try to sell it to the Prophet. Patent it or something just to make sure that Rita never went running off with it. He could hold it for ransom and make her participate in a flea circus if she wanted to use it. Hermione'd get a laugh about that. He could probably convince Dora to take Teddy too and the little tyke would have a blast watching the evil bug fly around the carousel.

"Just what are you chuckling about?" Dora asked as the clanking stopped and she settled into a chair across from him.

"Skeebug on a carousel," Harry replied, his giggling intensifying.

There was a long moment of silence followed by muffled laughter. "Okay, I'll give you that that is a rather hilarious mental image, Harry. Though I have no idea what it says about me that I understood what you meant there. Here, drink this. Not a full dose, just enough to avoid alcohol poisoning for now; you could do with a bit of a headache I'd say."

Harry's giggling settled down and he carefully lifted his arm, squinting over at her. Sighing, he downed the proffered vial and shrugged at her earlier comment. "Prob'ly means that you spend too much time with me, Dora."

"And just like that, he's back," Dora murmured. Shaking her head she leaned forward and patted his cheek. "Harry, you're my friend, you're the godfather of my child, and you're family. Hell you're basically my little brother. I'm always going to be here when you need me."

"Andi disagrees. She's right. Teddy's more important than me."

The metamorph pinched the bridge of her nose and hesitated for several seconds before finally replying. "My mum doesn't think you can keep it together around him and I strongly disagree. As I've said multiple times before. Sadly, I am not moving out of her house anytime soon. Merlin knows I can't take care of that little nightmare by myself. So – as I've said – until you can prove to her that you can stay sober for longer than a week, mum has the final say on if you're left alone with Teddy. Don't argue with a Black."

Harry raised his eyebrows at her and propped himself up slightly. "You're a Black, Dora."

"A Black who is too exhausted from chasing a two-year-old to bother wasting her frustration on anything else," the metamorph replied smoothly. "Look, Harry, _I_ know you're not a danger to my kid. _You_ know you're not a danger to my kid. Even _mum_ knows you're not a danger to my kid. I bet you galleons to sugar quills that she's using this more to trick you into getting sober than any actual malice."

"Doesn't change that she's right. He shouldn't see me like this," Harry muttered flopping back onto the couch. " _You_ shouldn't see me like this. Why can't you just let me drink in peace, Dora?"

"Because it doesn't _fix_ anything, Harry." She sighed and moved to hug him. As usual, he tensed for the barest of instants before letting her ensconce him. "You're killing yourself – slowly, sure, but you are killing yourself. If I let you pass out at one of those Muggle pubs you may not wake up again."

Harry shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, his hand balling into a fist. "Can't kill myself. My magic doesn't let me die that easily. I'd have to actually _try_ and I can't because then everyone who stood between me and that monster died for nothing. I have to live. I don't have to enjoy it though."

"That's not living, Harry," Dora said softly. She squeezed him one last time and pulled back, laying a kiss across his temple as she sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "So what set it off this time? Nightmare?"

Harry waved towards the end table with a few torn open letters, one in particular that was a good bit larger than the rest. "Hermione sent an owl. No improvement. She said she was starting to talk with the Japanese; they're supposedly really good with mental manipulation spells. I read between the lines. She's run out of ideas. Her parents are forever gone and it's because of me."

Dora got up and skimmed through the letter. She grimaced towards the end and folded it up, slipping it into her pocket. "Okay, that bloody well sucks. Can't say I didn't warn you both about it before she went off to find them. Harry, it's not your fault that Hermione wiped her folks memories. No, stop! No arguing! You're sober enough to speak straight, so you're sober enough to listen. Hermione is the one that screwed that pooch. Obliviates are _hard_ to remove for a reason. She could've used any number of charms, but her relationship with them was already bad enough that she figured obliviation was cleaner and easier. That she regrets that choice now is not on you."

"She's my best friend, I should be helping!"

"Since when have you ever been good at any spells besides combat ones huh? Or potions? How about arithmancy? No, none of the above? Great, glad we cleared how you'd help." The clock in the other room chimed and Dora looked to her watch with a mild curse. "Alright, Lord Scion Black, I need to get back to my kid before my mum loses her marbles. There's only so much Barney one can take before going to the studio and roasting the purple menace. One day I _will_ get you back for convincing me getting a telly was a good idea."

"Try to get him onto Blue's Clues. Or the Magic School Bus – I think they rerun that one still. Always liked that one; even Dudley liked Ms. Frizzle."

Dora nodded. "I'll take it under advisement." The doorbell rang and Harry groaned burying one side of his head into the couch and covering the other ear with his hand. "Excellent timing. That girl knows me too well. Just as Barney ended; right on time!"

"Wha…?"

"You're substitute minder has arrived. Like I said, _someone_ has to make sure you don't pass out and die." Dora strode to the door and loudly greeted his 'guest'. "Tori, just the witch I was hoping to see!"

A musical laugh rang through the entrance hall. "Well considering you called me I should think so. The hangover potions in the normal spot?"

"There's half of one on the table if you're feeling merciful, but yeah, I made sure the rest are prepped too. I say just let him sleep this one off though. He's already stopped slurring, I think we got him before he went too far down the hole."

Their conversation drifted into a lower register before Astoria moved a little ways down the hall and Harry could again hear the women talking. "…Tonks, would you talk to Daphne? I'm getting tired of her snarky comments and I really don't want to start cursing my sister. Especially considering what I'm about to be doing for her."

"I'll do you one better, I'll talk to Tracey when I get out of the office tomorrow."

Astoria laughed as she rounded the corner. "We'll make a politician out of you yet, Dora Tonks! Get back to your adorable son, I got this. Hi, Harry!"

Harry groaned and pushed his hand against his ear harder. "Hi, Tori," he grunted. "Do you have to be so loud?"

"Have to? No. Want to? Yes. One of these days, I'm going to get you trained up right and proper. This is all just step one," she said grinning and plopping down onto the sofa. A bit of squawking and maneuvering later and Harry found his head trapped on her lap. He was stuck between staring at her well-toned stomach as her shirt rode up ever so slightly or up at a pair of crochet hooks expertly expanding the small square of cloth in Astoria's hands.

"Seriously?" he complained resolving to just shut his eyes until she let him up. His resolve didn't last long and he very quickly found himself staring at her navel instead.

"I need to finish this before your birthday. Now, hush. Unless you wish to discuss where you're taking me that evening, in which case, please do chatter away!"

"Do we have to argue about this again, Tori? I'm not taking you out on that day. I'm not taking you out ever."

"So you continue to claim that you aren't dating me?" Astoria asked, her crochet hooks continuing their dance uninterrupted.

"We _aren't_ dating," Harry grumbled.

Astoria let her partially assembled knitted item rest for a moment before shaking her head and saying, "You know, most people consider a guy making dinner and then fucking a girl to be a date."

He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut resolving to stop letting her toned stomach continue mesmerizing him. "We can have sex and not be dating."

Astoria stayed silent for long enough that Harry risked opening his eyes and started to hope she'd given the point up. He was firmly disabused of that notion as she proceeded to lay her project to the side and clutch his head with both hands, twisting him so that he was looking right up into her eyes. "Harry, that works when both parties don't feel something for the other. And even then there's no talking involved, no feelings, and certainly no fancy eat-in dinners. You need to stop trying to push me away. Please."

Harry saw a soft sheen glistening on her eyes for a brief moment before she blinked them away. His headache worsened and the pit in his stomach grew deeper. Besides Dora, Astoria was the only one who he saw regularly these days and it gnawed his insides every time he did this to her. He reached up to wipe a thumb across her cheek and smiled up at her. Carefully prying one of her hands from his face, he levered himself up and grabbed for the remaining vial of Hangover Draught. Knocking it back with a grimace he turned back to Astoria and hugged her. "I'm sorry, okay. I know how you feel about me and I'm not going to deny that I lo…like you too, Tori. We can't date though. Not for real. Not how you want."

Astoria pulled back from the hug enough to bring her lips to his. They kissed, a light feathering touch that swiftly deepened into a battle for control of the movement. Each one's tongue rolled off of the other seemingly trying to reach their partner's throat first to show off their prowess. Harry broke first falling back and breathing heavily as Astoria leant her forehead against his. "I know you're damaged, Harry Potter," Astoria murmured. "I can live with that if you can."

"That's just the thing, Tori," Harry whispered squeezing her tighter. "I don't know if I can."

* * *

The next morning dawned, the bright sun falling onto Harry's eyes rousing him from sleep. Groaning, he shifted and grabbed his wand, blindly tossing a spell at the window shade and leaving the room pleasantly dim.

"Well thanks for that, I was using that light to make sure this top fit with this skirt, but sure, go ahead and shut the shade."

Harry cracked his eyes and glared at Astoria as she finished slipping a cream blouse over her lithe figure. Another part of him coming fully awake at the sight, Harry had to clench his teeth to bite back his first reply of what he thought she should be doing with that top and where it belonged.

"If you wanted to dress correctly, all you had to do was raid the closet with the light in there on. It has mostly your clothes anyway."

Astoria twisted to him with a frown. "Yes, because you refuse to buy anything for yourself and without Dora, Hermione or I, I swear you'd still be wearing those rags you were in when we first met."

"I had those for years. They worked just fine," he mumbled. He'd long since learnt not to mention that they were Dudley's hand-me-downs. Astoria came from a good family and she'd never have reacted well to learning about the origin of his own clothes. It just…never really felt right to buy things for himself even after so many years.

"Harry," Astoria sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. She leant forward and drew him into a short, passionate kiss. Pulling back she trailed a hand down his naked torso and rested it on his chest. "Harry, I'm going to go. I have a meeting with Draco; it concerns my family and I…Harry you _need_ to stop pushing me away. _Please_!"

"Tori, I," Harry trailed off and looked away from her, staring instead of that the photo of the Golden Trio on his bedside table. They'd been so happy that day at Bill and Fleur's wedding. It was hard to imagine that they'd lost Ron only a few weeks after that. Voldemort's trap had been laid well. Ron wasn't the first death laid on Harry's shoulders and it certainly wasn't the last. The familiar urge for a strong drink welled inside him and Harry scowled as he fought it down. He wasn't going to become a lush that remained _constantly_ drunk. One or two indulgences a week was something he could hold himself to. Shaking his head he refocused on the girl beside him. "Astoria, I'm not good for you. I can barely keep my head on straight half the time and the other half the time I'm a magnet for trouble. Do you know that Shack told me the Aurors intercepted ten 'credible threats against my person' just in the past month? That's not a life you want. You can do better than me. You _should_ do better than me."

Astoria kissed him again, going so far as to crawl onto his lap and cling to his head like she was drowning and he was her life-preserver. He grinned through the kiss as one part of his mind noted the irony on that comparison since she seemed to be dragging all of the air out of his lungs with her ministrations. A seeming eternity later Astoria finally leant back and Harry noticed the tear tracks down her cheeks. Reaching up he wiped them away with a thumb and she pushed her head into his hand. "You can do better than me, Tori."

"I don't _want_ better, Harry. I want you." She shuddered against him and turned away. As she slowly picked herself up off the bed she let her hand cling to his own until she was forced to let go once she got too far. Pausing by the door, Astoria shook her head. "I have to go," she said, her voice barely carrying across the room to him. "I have to protect my family and help my sister. I love you, Harry. Please don't ever forget that." She fled down the stairs as her breathing hitched.

"Tori?" Harry asked frowning. Her tone sent something rattling around inside him that left him cold and tense. There was a finality in that tone that was entirely at odds with everything that had come before and it shook him enough to rouse what little remained of the fire within. "Tori, wait! What's going on?" He scrambled out of bed tripping in the sheets and cursing as he crashed to the ground. By the time he picked himself back up and untangled the damnable cotton from his legs, the front door had slammed shut.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. Scowling, he moved to his dresser and grabbed a pair of trousers at random. "Me and my big bloody mouth."

* * *

Daphne Greengrass was not a hard woman to find these days. While in Hogwarts she had been practically unapproachable due to the Ice Queen persona she'd left on display in public, anyone who walked into Davis Dress Delights met a very different version of the blonde Slytherin. The door had barely banged shut before Harry saw her coming around the corner of the desk all smiles and loudly proclaiming, "Welcome to Davis Dresses, how can I help you to-Potter." Daphne's bubbly demeanor fell off like a mask and she scowled at him with a sneer that Snape would be impressed with. "What do _you_ want, Potter?"

"You know I _could_ actually be here for a dress, Daphne," Harry replied gesturing to the racks of beautiful clothes to the side.

"Yeah, sure, the day I believe that is the day that Hell freezes over. Come to toy with the heart of another Greengrass? Sorry to disappoint, but I'm already taken so piss off, Potter!"

"Daph!" a harsh rebuke split the air as Tracey Davis pushed through a back door in the shop and walked in front of her girlfriend. "Daph, stop antagonizing our customers. We've been over this."

"He's not a customer so I don't have to be nice."

"Actually, Tracey," Harry said with an amused chuckle, "she's right. I'm here to ask you two a question. Do you have a moment?" Daphne's glare was as strong as any that he'd received while attending the Death Eater trials though he fully admitted this one at least was probably warranted. "Look, I know you don't like me Daphne; I don't like me either if it's any consolation. I never wanted to hurt your sister and I think I may have done so this morning. Please, just tell me what's going on with her today?"

Daphne's scowl intensified and she actually bared her teeth at him. Tracey had to physically place a hand onto her partner's chest to prevent Daphne from stalking forwards. "All you had to do was accept her you bloody bastard, but you couldn't do that could you? No! You don't get to ask questions! You had your chance and it's gone. I screwed things up enough for her myself and I am not going to let you get anywhere near her and risk her losing even more now! Get out of our store!"

"Daphne! Go get some air! I'll deal with this." Tracey spun the blonde around and forcefully marched her through the door behind the counter. "No, stop glaring at me. Go!" With a final snarl at Harry, Daphne stomped through the door and slammed it behind her. Tracey turned to Harry shaking her head and flashing him a small smile and a sorrowful shake of her head. "Sorry, she's upset because Astoria is paying the price for her loving me."

"What?" Harry asked blinking at the brunette witch. Of all the things he'd been considering on the walk here, that answer had been last among them. "How does that makes any sense?"

Tracey shrugged and settled onto a stool behind the counter gesturing Harry to a chair across from her and idly flipping the sign on the door to Closed with a flick of her wand. "Because the Greengrasses are an old family. You really don't know much about this world do you, Potter?"

"Never have, doubt I ever will. Ron and his family were going to teach me some, but…well I'm not very welcome at the Weasley household these days." He steadfastly ignored the phantom screams of Molly when he told her how her son died. And how much worse those were when Percy was struck down right in front of them both while taking a Killing Curse for Harry. He heaved a shuddering sigh and thrust down the need to search the room for something to dim the memories. "Tonks never cared enough about politics to bother explaining much and Neville is busy with his and Susan's kid now. So no, I don't understand Purebloods or their maneuverings."

Tracey grimaced. "Sorry, didn't mean to open old wounds. Forgot about the gingers cutting you out. You know you could still go to the twins. Thought they still liked you?"

"Fred and George and I exchange owls and are friendly, yeah. But they aren't the type you go asking about Wizengamot business or something."

"True," Tracey muttered. She lifted her head and shrugged again. "Look, far be it from me to give lessons on how to live one's life, but Potter, your ignorance is a big deal here. Astoria has been courting you for a long time."

"Yeah, kinda got that. I've been trying to get her to choose someone else for almost as long. Ever since she latched onto me after the Battle of Hogwarts I…well I'm sure that she's told Daphne and Daphne's told you. I'm not good for her."

"Better than a former Death Eater at least," Tracey grunted. It was quiet enough that she was obviously talking to herself, but not so quiet that Harry couldn't hear it.

He sat up straighter and his eyes narrowed to slits. " _What?_ "

Tracey stirred and flinched back. "What, what?"

"What do you mean 'better than a Death Eater'? What has she gotten herself into?"

Tracey grimaced and started to drum her fingers against the desktop. "Look, Potter…Harry. I'm sure you know that not all of the old guard has been excised from this society yet, right?"

"Of course not. Wars only end with all the bad guys gone in fairy tales and movies."

"Right, so you know that the Greengrass family made some enemies on both sides when they stayed neutral too, yeah?"

"Yes," he ground out. "Get to the point, Tracey."

She nodded hurriedly. "Okay, well here's the thing, Daphne's parents used up a lot of the money from their business buying their way out of trouble during the war and they haven't really had a chance to build it back up yet. They'll be fine enough in a few years and able to keep people off their backs again, but in the meantime they need a bit more protection to ensure that they stay off of certain lists. Bad lists."

"I still don't see how this related to Astoria."

"Generally, if you can't pay someone off, you err…well you um…"

"Out with it!" Harry spat.

"You join their family okay!" Tracey shouted. Her fingers stopped their pattering and she closed her hands into fists. "Daphne can't marry anyone because she bound herself to me about a year ago. I mean, yes, technically she _could_ marry someone else, but she'd be in horrific pain throughout the entire marriage and that's if the new contract doesn't strip her of her magic thanks to the conflict with the old one. Bonds like that don't really play well together."

Harry remained silent for several long moments trying to process what Tracey was saying and reach any conclusion other than the one staring him in the face. "What is Astoria doing?" he asked the soft, quiet sound at distinct odds to the last exchange.

Tracey looked down at the table refusing to meet his eyes. "The elder Greengrasses got an ultimatum from an…old business partner a few weeks back. You refuse to be more than a fuck buddy for her. You can't protect her or her family from their enemies like that. She's been trying so hard to get her parents to wait – to try and give you time to sort out your demons. But you're not ready and they're out of time. Astoria is talking with Draco about a marriage contract. It's not ideal and he's – "

" _She's what?!_ " Harry hissed. Dimly he realized that he had slipped into parseltongue though he really couldn't bring himself to care.

Tracey didn't even seem to notice. "Draco's still a little bastard, but the ponce is better than other options. There's no strong Light side that is single and willing to have anything to deal with a Grey family. At least none that are below 60 and that's just eww. On the Dark most of the other options are still quietly following their parents' philosophies and the ones that aren't are mostly taken already. Again there's a few that are not exactly militantly Purearsed, but they're _old_ ; even moreso than the Light. So she's basically down to Draco and Theo. Theo is bad news. He'd try and turn her into a slave before the ink even dried. Draco's just a ponce."

"He's a _marked Death Eater_!" Harry spat.

"No shit, Potter!" Tracey shouted back scowling. "She doesn't even _like_ him, but she doesn't have any other options! It's either marry Draco, let Daphne marry Draco and probably suffer for the rest of her life, or watch her parents get killed! At least the bastards would leave the girls alone, but her mother and father wouldn't make it out alive. Do you want to be the one to tell her that her parents aren't worth a loveless marriage? Do you, Potter? Are you man enough for _that_ at least?! You know most Purebloods wouldn't even hesitate in this situation. They are groomed from birth to expect a marriage that only exists on paper, but noooooo, Tori had to go and fall in love instead! So if you want to save her then _bloody well save her_!"

Harry flinched back like she'd struck him. He knew what Tracey was asking. If he was being honest with himself, he'd known since Astoria had walked away this morning. But was that something that he could do? He cared about her. He liked her. He probably even loved her – even if he had no real experience with what love even felt like. But…nothing had changed from last night. He was still a drunk, he was still plagued by near-crippling depression half the time, and he was still a target for everyone that disliked the new changes to society.

If it was a choice between Harry and Draco though…which would be the worse option? Being with Harry fulltime would likely drag Astoria down into the hole with him. Being with Draco would be a sham marriage true, but…he despised the blonde bastard, but even Harry had to admit that Draco was a shell of what he had been before. He'd at least be able to provide for Astoria and shield her and…

And was he really sitting here convincing himself that Astoria would be better off with _Draco Malfoy_ of all people?

 _I don't_ want _better, Harry. I want you._

"Where is she?"

* * *

"I don't like this clause here about marriage fidelity," Gerald Greengrass' voice drifted up the corridor to Harry's ears as he stalked through Gringotts on the heels of a goblin. His teeth ground against each other and he had to force himself not to start running. "Why does your son get to sleep around and not my daughter?"

"Gerald, please," Narcissa said a snort of amusement in her voice. "We both know that if your daughter is not bound to fidelity until at least after an heir is secured then her child would be begotten by Potter."

"Would that honestly even upset you?" Astoria asked. Harry lost the battle with himself and began taking longer and longer strides forcing his goblin guide to nearly run in an effort to keep from being squashed.

"Appearances must be maintained darling."

Draco was the next to respond and his reply left Harry reaching for his wand. "I'm not raising a kid with green eyes and black hair. I'd sooner smother it and say it was a stillbirth."

The goblin finally flattened itself to the wall and pointed towards an open door across the hall. Harry strode in, his fists clenched tight and glared at everyone present. "Over my dead body you will." His words were quiet, but the cold steel seemed to leave everyone at the table flinching. Well, almost everyone. Astoria beamed at him instead of shying away.

"Mr. Potter, I do believe this is a private meeting," Narcissa said, as her mask fell back into place her rapid blinking was the only clue as to how off kilter she was at the interruption.

"In that case hold it in a Manor instead of a bank. Now piss off, this negotiation is over," he said grinning at her. One would have to be an imbecile to mistake it for a pleasant expression and Narcissa was no imbecile.

Draco however, apparently hadn't learned all that much since school. "Potter, I don't want your sloppy seconds either, but my family needs someone to drag us out of the mud again. I'm willing to do my duty so bugger off and – "

"Control your son or I'll rescind my request to keep him out of Azkaban," Harry stated. The threat seemed to suck all of the air out of the room as he focused in on Narcissa. "And I want to know who exactly threatened the Greengrasses."

The former Black swallowed and slowly nodded. "I understand very well that your obligation to us ended after your original missive to the Minister, Lord Potter. I will make some inquiries and pass along any findings I can acquire. I make no promises."

"Good. Now leave." He jerked his head to the door and an instant later both Malfoys were standing and shuffling outside. Draco glared at Harry on his way out however Narcissa laid her hand on his back and guided him out.

"That was sooo hot." Two heads with various shades of crimson turned to stare at Astoria's outburst. "What? Harry went all White Knight and protective. He has a saving people thing and I find that attractive, sue me."

Harry cleared his throat trying to buy time to figure out how to respond to that and only managed to come up with an awkward wave and strangled, " 'lo, Tori."

"Hello, Harry," she replied an amused glint in her eyes.

"As impressively brusque of a handling as that was, Mr. Potter," Gerald Greengrass said turning to Harry and rubbing his fingers against his forehead, "I find myself of two minds about it. From your comments you apparently know of our situation. I hope your plan involves more than throwing out some threats and passing along names to the Aurors. That doesn't really work in the real world, child."

Harry shrugged and slipped into a seat next to Astoria. "I may have some issues, but I can still hold my own whenever the cards are down and everyone on both sides knows that. Plus my name has a lot of power; no matter what world you're in. To better answer your question however, I feel that _that_ is a private conversation between Astoria and I."

Gerald held Harry's gaze for several second before nodding and standing. "Should I be staying nearby for a signature or will you be contacting me in a few days?"

Harry turned to Astoria and was taken aback by the longing he saw in her expression. Breathing deeply he nodded to Gerald. "Might as well stay nearby I guess." Harry barely noticed as the older man left the room since his attention was fully on the smaller brunette who had just jumped into his lap and started clinging to him hard enough to squeeze the air from his lungs. "Why didn't you tell me what was going on, Tori?" he murmured as she loosened her hold somewhat.

"You have so much to worry about," Astoria said into his shoulder. "I didn't want to throw more onto your plate. Every time we're together you always pushed me back when things cooled down. You were scared and sad and I didn't want to force you into anything. If you were going to be with me, I wanted you to _choose_ to be with me; the last thing I want is for you to feel obligated to do something just to save me. If that's what this is, then please, just go. I don't want you to – "

"Tori shut up for a minute, okay," Harry grumbled pulling back and holding her at arms' length with his hands on her shoulders. Astoria blinked rapidly then nodded. "Thanks. Look, first off, you should've told me and we _are_ going to fight about that later. Probably have fun make-up sex too if I'm being realistic, but that's not the point. I'm angry and you should've told me."

Astoria smirked and visibly held back a chuckle though she apparently couldn't stop herself from mumbling, "Men, one track mind."

"Second, I'm not good with l-love. I didn't have it growing up. My ex-girlfriends were infatuated with the Boy-Who-Lived and never loved Harry Potter. I've been broken and dazed since the war ended. I don't really know what love feels like, Tori. I _really_ like you. I think I love you. I honestly am not sure because I don't know what love is supposed to feel like. But if it feels like you'd do anything for the other person and that they are your world; if it feels like you're happier just being around them and that they bring more meaning and color into your life just by existing then yeah, I love you."

"I love you too, Harry," Astoria whispered turning enough to kiss his hand. "And that's a perfectly good description of love."

"Third, I'm not just here because I want to save you. Yes, I do, and yes, that is a part of it, but it's not the whole reason or even the main reason. I…I don't want to lose you Astoria. You've never once walked away from me for over two years. You've held my head as I threw up, collected me from too many bars to count, and listened to me when I ranted. You've been there after my nightmares and you've made meals for me after the others tossed me out. You're one of my best friends, Tori, and I refuse to lose you to a holdover from this horrible war. Even if that holdover is…me."

Astoria frowned and reached forward to lay a hand on his leg squeezing softly. "I don't understand. What do you mean by you?"

Harry took a deep breath and nodded to himself. He could do this. "I'm not healthy. I know that and I know I haven't done much about it in the past. That's going to change. I'm going to find a Squib therapist and start talking to them about everything that's happened. And I'm going to start going to these Muggle things: AA meetings. It's supposed to help you stop drinking. I'm not healthy and I'm broken, Astoria. But if you're willing to stick with me for a little bit longer I'm…I'm going to try to get back to being someone who's worthy of you."

Astoria's smile could've lit up a room and she brushed Harry's hands off her shoulders so that she could lean in and kiss him. The kiss was short and barely more than a pressing of her lips on his, yet it convened the depth of her feelings far more than words would've been able to. Harry grinned back at her and hugged her. "So err, I plan to do this thing right in the future, but I'm guessing that to keep your parents safe we need to make it somewhat official now right?"

"Probably. Though if I'm publically dating the Man-Who-Conquered I rather doubt it needs to be done right away like with the Malfoy marriage contract."

Harry thought for a second and nodded. "Okay, well how about we split the difference then. A betrothal thing instead? Lots of escape clauses in case you change your mind and dump me?"

Astoria's laughter rang throughout the room and she playfully slapped him. "I did not learn how to crochet a hat and scarf for your birthday just to dump you later, Mr. Potter."

"You say that now," Harry replied laughing along with her. "Just wait until you start having to listen to Barney the Purple Dinosaur singing 'I love you' when we babysit Teddy."

Astoria shook her head and held up her hands in mock horror. "Anything but that!"

"See, we'll get some sense into you one way or another, girl." Harry paused and cocked his head to the side. A small shudder ran up his body and he turned back to his new betrothed. "Oh, err, one more thing, Tori."

"Yes, my love?" she asked playfully. "Did you want to take me on the table before my father comes back in?"

Harry blushed and had to beat down the images that that brought to mind. There would be time for it in a moment. "…Maybe. But before I forget, I'm going to need you talk to your sister before we go home. She's scary and I think she wants to kill me."

"Nah, she just wants to freeze your bollocks off. I'll make sure that threat is taken care of shortly. After all, it would be rather hard to have kids when one's husband is lacking necessary equipment."

"Agreed," Harry purred as he leant in to capture her in a searing kiss. Swinging one arm behind her back and other under her arse, Harry stood and deposited her onto the table into a single smooth motion. "Now, about that earlier idea…"

* * *

 **Ending AN:** Remus' fate in this is left fairly ambiguous. I intended for him to have died at the Battle of Hogwarts like in canon, but upon reading it seems to work with him just leaving instead too. Whichever way you want to interpret his character is perfectly fine as Harry would blame himself for both in this verse anyway. Molly similarly is not intended to be bad. She's just someone who deals with her losses in a very poor fashion; which seems fairly canon concerning what we see of her in the books. Again, feel free to interpret her actions at cutting Harry off as you will.

 **Fic Recommendation:** "A Fateful Walk" by Shygui. This is a Harry/Daphne and Neville/Astoria fic. It's set almost immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts when Harry finds Daphne dying in the castle and saves her. Harry being Harry, it's never that easy and he accidentally ties their cores together. In a bit of an unusual twist to this sort of story, Daphne is not remotely okay with this development despite her friends and family being far more enthused with it. Tracey, Astoria and Neville are all important characters and all have Harry's back as well. This fic is very good and is currently still in progress.


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